I studied with a Buddha

Sakyamuni Buddha, the original Buddha, shocked his followers by eating at the home of a low-life, a blacksmith from a forbidden caste. I can imagine that his actions turned his disciples upside down as they weighed what they felt--the vibration of enlightenment that radiated from their teacher--against his disregard of convention. My bet is that in coming to grips with who and what they trusted--their own experiences versus the opinions of others--they gained freedom.

I studied with a Buddha who lived and worked in America. What a courageous soul! He didn’t look like a Wise One was supposed to look. He had brown-blond curly hair, Caucasian skin and a tall, athletic build. He often wore stunning business suits with even more stunning Versace ties. At other times he wore black leather and sunglasses. He always looked impeccable.

He also didn’t act like a Wise One was supposed to act. When I first met him, he drove a Porsche, later a Mercedes and a Bentley. He told ribald jokes. He danced like a soul on fire. He dated beautiful women. He told us the truth when, if had just shined us on, he could have attracted even more students. He exhibited style in the best of time and in the worst of times.

The Buddha did shine--with gold light. The reach of the light and the richness of the color grew in intensity as the depth of his samadhi increased. "The light can’t get any thicker", I would tell myself after an evening of meditating with Rama, "it can’t get any brighter than it is tonight." But the next time I would see him, I would have to say the same thing to myself again.

This Buddha took us to the desert not once but many times, to show us worlds of beauty and stillness. He did magic in the desert--skated on the sand, turned somersaults while standing still, and divided and multiplied his outward form. He was at home in the power and silence of the desert. He delighted in gently shaking our perceptions of what was real and unreal, what could and couldn’t happen. "It’s like it’s out of the Don Juan books, " I would tell my friends. They shook their heads in disbelief while I grinned to myself. I knew; I had been there. I saw.

After my first desert experience, when the thick crust around me cracked a bit, I listened to Rama more closely. He seemed to believe in my buddhahood and told me that I wasn’t any different from him. He said the only difference was that he knew he was made up of enlightenment and I didn’t. The perfection of the universe, including the universe that was me, was a constant refrain. He also gave me multiple suggestions on how I could make my universe, inwardly perfect though it was, outwardly happier, brighter and more optimistic. Meditation was the foundation, and was accompanied by practical tasks such as cleaning closets and observing where I gained and lost energy.

The idea that life was perfect as it is escaped me, and most of his students. While you’d think we would understand that someone who manifested gold light and performed miracles would know what he was talking about...this is America and this is the kali yuga, the dark age. The Buddha changed tactics. Perfection in career became our task. He constantly told us we could do anything we wanted to do, as long as we persisted.. He advised that we follow the dreams of our heart--and to meditate deeply so that we could feel our hearts, know our dreams.

It will take more years than I have left in this lifetime to express my gratitude to Rama. How I thank him for believing in and working for the enlightenment of women! How I thank him for helping me to laugh and let go! And how I thank him for respecting my privacy and individuality, while showing me that I am nothing and that I am everything.

May Buddha’s name be praised!

--Marina S.